"
"Mr. Thaddeus Sholto is a rich man," I said. "He will see that
you are rewarded, treasure or no."
The inspector shook his head despondently, however. "It's a bad
job," he repeated; "and so Mr. Athelney Jones will think."
His forecast proved to be correct, for the detective looked blank
enough when I got to Baker Street and showed him the empty box.
They had only just arrived, Holmes, the prisoner, and he, for
they had changed their plans so far as to report themselves at a
station upon the way. My companion lounged in his arm-chair with
his usual listless expression, while Small sat stolidly opposite
to him with his wooden leg cocked over his sound one. As I
exhibited the empty box he leaned back in his chair and laughed
aloud.
"This is your doing, Small," said Athelney Jones, angrily.
"Yes, I have put it away where you shall never lay hand upon it,"
he cried, exultantly. "It is my treasure; and if I can't have
the loot I'll take darned good care that no one else does. I
tell you that no living man has any right to it, unless it is
three men who are in the Andaman convict-barracks and myself. I
know now that I cannot have the use of it, and I know that they
cannot.
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